


Unlikely Duo

by RegalMisfortune



Series: Gibraltar Shenanigans [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Half-assed plan wins the day through sheer terror, I just really wanted the two Zs to work together even briefly, I wrote this instead of sleeping again, Several Enemy Deaths, Several Other Overwatch Members Honorably Mentioned, Zarya is a Russian soldier and does what she is told, Zenyatta has some sass, a bit more serious than the last piece I did, but nothing graphic, unless it's being told by an Omnic in which case she becomes a bit cranky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 04:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11073645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RegalMisfortune/pseuds/RegalMisfortune
Summary: On a mission gone horribly wrong, Zarya finds herself stuck between a rock and a hard place. Or rather, a collapsed hallway, a room full of snipers and trigger-happy enemies, and a honest-to-god floating Omnic.This wasn't going to end well.





	Unlikely Duo

Soldiers did not ask questions. They stood firm and said nothing more than “yes, sir” and “no, sir”. They did what was asked of them, without hesitance and without inquiring over the whys.

Being from the bitter cold of Russia also added its own layer of control. Recruits molded into the perfect soldiers. Questioning orders and reliability of their superiors made people _disappear_. Stepping a toe out of line warranted a thrashing no one would forget. A Russian soldier did not ask why, and if they were told the hows and the whos, then perhaps their superiors were being generous in their chances of survival. But a soldier did not ask.

It was much like the days of training for the weightlifting championships, the stern trainer as cold as steel and rigid as the icy mountains. No one asked why they were doing certain exercises or eating certain foods- you just did them, without question or hesitance. The military was much the same, only on a greater scale and the continuing existence depending on one’s obedience.

Thus, Zarya did not question her orders when she was pulled away from the Siberian frontlines. She did not question her new assignment of being a “loan” to the semi-secret, still-mostly-illegal recalled Overwatch. She took her particle cannon and little else as she went from the bitter chill of Siberia to the warmer climate of Spain without inquiry. She was a soldier- she did what she was told, and her orders were to assist Overwatch. Nothing more, nothing less.

She didn’t even say her concerns when she was dropped into the middle of the rather rag-tag team of misfits that had become the newer crew of the once great Overwatch- a mixture of old, familiar faces and newer ones. Many without proper military training, many still were criminals across the globe or in their own country, such as were Agent McCree and Agent Lucio respectively. This was not without mention the past ties that the Shimada brothers possessed with criminal organizations, or the possible rumors of bringing in Junkers into the fold. The only one who possessed some form of military training was a nineteen-year old Korean girl, who had more spunk than any other and a thirst for competition that made Zarya secretly impressed and worried.

But even then, she did not ask, did not spread her concerns into view.

Not even when she heard that were not one, but two Omnics in Gibraltar, with a potential third in the works, did she open her mouth to question their judgement. She had heard the English phrase: “The enemy of my enemy is my friend”, but she refused to apply it so generously to the Omnics that lived in the Watchpoint. The E54 “Bastion” unit typically remained outside, and that was fine by her, but the Shambali-taught Zenyatta was one to occasionally ventured into social climates with the other members of the base. She had been told that he was a passive sort, according to the idle ramblings of Tracer “Call me Lena!”, but Zarya remained tense and merely nodding her head while keeping an eye open at night in case they tried to turn against her.

She didn’t discuss that with anyone, her wariness of the Omnics. They weren’t to be trusted, but her orders were to assist Overwatch in any way they demand of her until further noticed. But her deeper desire to protect and defend, mixed in with the underlying fear of failure made her keep her mouth shut about the Omnics, no matter how many words were at the tip of her tongue in defiance against the others’ readily friendliness with them.

A Russian soldier would never fail, and she would not let her own personal problems get in the way of the objective. The enemies of my enemies were those to keep an eye on and throw as far as she could away if they even so much peeped out of line.

If anyone noticed, they did not mention anything to her. Not that she said much to them to open any sort of friendly relations with the others. She sometimes boasted a little- to Reinhardt- and made comments to the MEKA user Hana Song- D.Va- but otherwise she remained as cold and distant as the icy wind of a Siberian winter while avoiding the Omnics as much as possible.

She was a soldier, on loan. Nothing more, nothing less. And if that bothered the others, then it was of no concern to her.

While this holding at everyone at arm’s length and keeping the Omnics out of sight was practical in a social sense, on the mission it became something of an issue.

A big issue.

It was supposed to have been a simple sweep, clearing out a compound of known criminal activity. But the numbers had been far greater than what was previously estimated, the compound much larger and a network of maze-like hallways and rooms that made it a clusterfuck of gunfire and chaos of enemies jumping out of the nooks and crannies and taking them by surprise while snipers lurked in the levels above.

The team had been scattered, some trapped behind crates and equipment of the open floor area, others left to run through the narrow hallways while under fire. Zarya was trapped behind a wall, the floor above having collapsed into rubble, leaving nothing but herself and the room beyond the threshold full of trigger-happy crooks.

Oh, and an eerily floating Omnic who seemed far too relaxed given the circumstances.

Zarya pressed herself against the wall, one eye at the doorway and the other on the strange Omnic monk. While the enemy on the other side had yet to notice them, presuming they were safe by the collapsing hallway, she was still on edge that one would come out regardless.

The close proximity of the Omnic to her made her skin crawl under her dust-covered armor, gripping the massive particle cannon so tightly her knuckles turned white. She knew that it was watching her, its smooth metal visage and soft blue lights on its head turned towards her, floating and serene. How on earth did an Omnic learn how to float was beyond her, but between that and the orbs that glided around it like exotic beads made her grit her teeth at the eeriness of the action.

If she had to have a choice in how she would first interact with the residential “holy” Omnic, she would have done it in a setting where her life and the life of the rest of team wasn’t on the line. But no one asked what she wanted, and she was in no position to ask either.

Half of her wanted to dismantle the Omnic right then and there and blame the enemy, but she knew the Omnic’s cyborg pupil and the entirety of Overwatch would rain hell on her ass if she even laid a finger on the thing. Same would go if she pushed the floating bit of metal out ahead of her to use as a distraction.

Her hands shook slightly as her grip intensified upon the cannon. It did not matter that the Omnic was an Omnic- for now it was her teammate, and even thinking about throwing a teammate out as some sort of shield for herself made her sweat grow cold. The others genuinely _liked_ the thing and wanted it back in one piece- considered it a friend, even. It was not her place to take away that from them even if she wanted nothing to do with it. She’d be on the first flight back to Siberia in a box if anyone caught wind of her thoughts.

“I have a plan, if you wish to hear it.”

The soft, metallic voice jolted Zarya out of her inner ire, both eyes snapping to the Omnic that floated beside her. She could almost feel its presence as to how close it was, and she instinctively fought back the urge to step away. That would only put her in the middle of the doorway.

“I don’t trust you as far as you can throw me, Omnic,” was the first retort that came from the Russian’s lips, hissed and cold.

“Then you will be pleased to know that I have no plans of throwing you.”

The words were delivered with such calmness that it took a moment for Zarya to process what the Omnic had said. English was not quite her strong suit, and while she felt superior in her knowledge compared to many others, many things still slipped by her without her even knowing.

The slight sass did not.

“Then what,” she growled lowly, eyes narrowed into slits as she stared the Omnic down. “Is your ‘grand plan’.” It wasn’t phrased as a question, more as an order. A soldier never asked questions, but they could give orders if needed. And Zarya wasn’t going to sit around and inquire after the Omnic as if they were sitting in some tea party.

The Omnic was quiet for a moment, its head tilted as if contemplating Zarya’s words- or simply gazing at something through her.

“I will only need enough understanding between us to get us both out of here in one piece,” the Omnic explained, holding its hands open and upward against its folded knees. “And a healthy serving of fear into the souls of those who lay beyond. To, as the phrase goes, “run in with guns blazing”.”

Zarya frowned at the Omnic, her expression mixing into a glaring confusion. “Where’s your part in this?” The confusion laced her words as a question, but the growl in her tone maintained the air of her just a thread away from slamming the floating can head first into the wall. While she may not question her superiors or the others of Overwatch, she was most certainly going to question the motives of an Omnic if her life was unfortunately depending on it. It wasn’t like the thing would notice her previous reluctance of voicing her uncertainties, and like hell was she going to trust an Omnic to do what was right.

“I will have your back- in a literal sense,” the Omnic replied. “And assist in the fear while keeping us both intact.”

The explanation made… almost no sense to Zarya. But it was a plan, and if she was to die then the Omnic was going down with her. Failure in the face of death and failure alive with her tail between her legs were two different things, and she would rather die before running. Even if that meant going with this Omnic’s vague plan. She didn’t like it, but what other choice did she have that wouldn’t result in immediate failure of both the team and the mission?

“Fine,” she muttered, pushing her back from the wall to turn to face the doorway, putting the Omnic in her blind spot. She did not trust it, but she relied on the fact that it wanted to leave alive as much as she. That alone was the only thing spurring her on into this ludicrous plan, or so she told herself.

Metallic fingers curled into the gaps of her armor, the Omnic holding on while he floated behind her. She took a breath to steady herself, the prickling unease of an Omnic behind her being pushed aside to the objective at hand. Clear out the room, live to see the mission completed.

Readying her particle cannon, Zarya set her face into determination before rounding around the corner of the doorway with a battlecry on her lips. It jerked the occupants from their heckling of the team members on the floor below, their heads and guns pointed in her direction.

She felt it before she saw it, the warmth spreading throughout her as she rounded into the threshold, settling deep within her chest and down to her fingertips as her entire form began to bask in a brilliant gold light. She did not know what the enemy saw, but Zarya observed the pure, utter _terror_ that crossed their features. She felt none of that, only a strange, gentle calm that swept through her veins even while she opened fire upon the occupants of the room while they screamed. Some even bolted, dropping their weapons in fright while others decided it was not worth it and jumped out of the broken windows and to their demise far below on the open floor as their comrades remained rooted to the spot and opened fire in return, but none of their shot had any effect on her.

The aftermath was a destroyed room, broken glass and blood littering the floor. The glow receded as fast as it came, the warmth pulling away to leave nothing but ice in her blood.

A breath, then another as her feet crunched against the debris, the crackle of the comm in her ear as several people tried to call and determine their well-being.

“Zarya here. Room is secured. The snipers won’t be a problem anymore,” she rumbled through the comm, one hand holding onto her cannon while the other pressed to her headset in her ear. Her eyes flickered briefly to the Omnic, who was back to floating calmly beside her while Genji’s voice cut through the others.

“ _Is Zenyatta alright?!”_

“Affirmative,” was all she said to that, ignoring the sigh of relief from the other line. “Zarya out.”

As soon as she exited from the comm she turned to the Omnic, staring down the floating hunk of metal with a look that struck fear in the hearts of many who had fell under its intensity.

“Not one word of _this_.”

The Omnic continued to face in her direction for several seconds, seeming to once again observe something that she wasn’t quite sure of what before inclining his head.

“I understand.”

Zarya wasn’t sure what the Omnic meant by that- perhaps she was simply overthinking things again. But as soon as the mission was over she put as much distance between herself and the strange monk Omnic as there had been before.

What had exactly happened had been shortened to a “I shot them all” in the report, the others suspicious but did not ask. The results were the same, and there was no point in prodding further in fear of inciting some sort of bodily harm from the great Russian bear of a woman and the Omnic was as tight-lipped as he could get, deflecting the questions in his own, quirky way. And thus the teamwork between Zarya and Zenyatta was left between themselves, and no one was ever the wiser.

No one but one person, who saw the flickering security footage of a massive Russian woman with a particle cannon storming into a room full of snipers and gunmen with six brightly-glowing arms spreading out from behind her like exotic featherless wings from a seraph of death, the gold glinting off her eyes and spreading across her large form in its radiance before the camera was destroyed by the volley she wrought down upon the occupants.

And that one person simply grinned under the screen’s glow, tapping her fingers to save the holovid for a particularly rainy day. Just in case.


End file.
